The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. 104 < 14 > THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF JOSEPH R. She had nothing to say for herself. \"Why weren't you there?\" She asked Mike. ‘You are dead, you,’ he yelled back, leaping into the seat of the final pew. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh.
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